


Oblivious

by Diablo_Kades, Grace Kay (Drummerchick7)



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-10-21
Packaged: 2017-12-30 02:52:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diablo_Kades/pseuds/Diablo_Kades, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drummerchick7/pseuds/Grace%20Kay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard has loved Sam from afar for far too long and now its time for her to tell her exactly how she feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oblivious

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collaboration between myself and Diablo_Kades. She had to get some feels out, and then I read it and demanded smut. Then, when the smut-writing came, she needed help, so we turned it into a collaboration.

I have no idea how long I've been stood here watching you. I'm talking to Liara in the corner of the CIC about the next mission parameters but my gaze always wanders back to you. You’re gorgeous, intelligent, and all around amazing, and everyone but you knows it. I get to stand here every day and watch you fight, not literally fight since I would never allow you to be out in harm’s way like that, but in your own way, fighting with your faith.  I get to see your belief and your fiery spirit. And yet I can’t touch you.

You connect everyone; you connect everything in this war effort. You’re as essential to me as breathing and I can’t tell you, I can never tell you about this. I love you. It scares me in its intensity; the unyielding, burning urge to touch you, kiss you, run my hands through your hair and tell everyone how I feel. I would yell it from the top of the presidium and I wouldn’t care who heard me.  Every time I see you my heart jumps, my stomach churns and I always end up smiling. I could come back from the worst mission in the world and yet one glimpse of you in your form fitting uniform and my mood flips.

I knew when we left Earth. The first time we spoke, when you interrupted me and Liara in my cabin, I knew I was gone. You looked so nervous standing there, looked lost even though I felt like I’d just been found. You looked scared and intimidated and maybe even slightly awed at the sight of the two of us together. I knew right then that given half a chance I would do everything to make sure you felt safe around me. I wanted to be your friend. I wanted to get to know the person behind the uniform. Behind your slightly awkward exterior I knew you would be amazing. It’s why I enjoy talking to you at every chance I get.

I see you in the CIC, leaning over the comm feeds and I want so much to be able to tell you how I feel but I know it wouldn’t be fair. I can’t ask you to care for me like that, especially given how I seriously doubt I’m going to get out of this war alive. I’m barely holding it together as it is and the way I’m forced to throw myself into the fray every day, there’s no guarantee I’m ever going to come back. I can’t make that promise and I won’t make you worry, I won’t hurt you.   I can’t ask someone to do that for me, even if it means I’m going just a little bit crazy without someone to turn to, to be vulnerable to.

But I’ve known you for five months and I already love you. Five months of tentative friendship for the both of us and total torture for me. Unrequited love is supposed to be one of the worst feelings in the world; I just never thought I’d know what it was like. It’s like being the happiest I can be and being biotically punched in the gut at the same time.  

I know I’m supposed to be the suave one, the cool, collected, confident Commander, but whenever I’m with you all my experience abandons me and I’m back to stuttering and stumbling over my words like a teenage boy.  It’s a first for me; even when I was inexperienced with women I always managed to bluff my way through, hiding my nervousness behind a confident swagger and a well-timed quip.  But you... you mess that up. You have no idea of the effect you have on me.

* * *

You don’t see yourself the way others do. We talked about it once, during our first chess game; I invited you up to my cabin despite my best judgement. I had to know more about you. I couldn’t not - you were the enigma I had to unravel, the puzzle I had to figure out. I asked you that night about how you saw yourself. I think I told you that I liked knowing my crew, liked knowing more about them than their dossiers told me. It was a total lie. Yes, I like knowing my crew but that’s not why I asked. I had to know, had to know every little thing about you. You told me about your life with your family, joining the Alliance, your special science training in the academy, and all about your chess tournaments. I just sat there, listening to you talk, your voice washing over me. That accent of yours; every bit as entrancingly sexy as you are. I revelled in it. Absorbing every little detail of your life, memorizing it, and admiring the way your eyes lit up when you found a topic that fascinated you. It was a shock to learn that you were from Horizon. That place holds so many tortured memories for me but knowing that what I did saved you-I know I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I’ve never really believed in destiny or fate, but that night made me question everything I already thought I knew, you were…no, you are perfect.  You were so beautiful that night. That night I saw the real you. I saw the cautiously confident, teasing woman hiding beneath the surface of the shy persona you showed the world. Your self-confidence was so low. You didn’t believe you deserved to be on board the Normandy; you didn’t think you were good enough.

I don’t understand how you could ever think you weren’t good enough. You’re amazing and fascinating and the most gorgeous person I’ve ever laid eyes on. It was that night I discovered the only thing that could make you more beautiful. It was that night that I first saw you blush. I told you that I wouldn’t let you leave even if you wanted to. I told you that I wouldn’t want anyone else to steal you away from me. The sight of the soft pink blooming across your darkened cheeks made my breathing hitch and my heart jump - a sensation already too familiar where you’re concerned. That blush is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen.

* * *

It didn’t take me long to work out the truth. You can’t take a compliment at all; you always blush and duck your head down with your beautiful half smile and your hair swinging across your eyes to hide your embarrassment. Naturally I couldn’t stop it; I had to see that amazing smile burst through. I guess I thought that maybe, if I did it often enough, you would start to believe them. I end up flirting all the time; compliments and comments just to glimpse that side of you. And each time I do I just want to slap myself for being so stupid, for allowing my emotions to slip past my better judgement and make you uncomfortable. I should have better self-control than that. I _do_ have better self-control than that, in every other situation.

Trouble is, when it comes to you, I can’t control anything. It’s that goddamn uniform, and that smile, and that adorable blush. It’s like an addiction I have to feed; a bad habit I can’t kick and I'm not entirely sure I want to. I like making you happy, making you smile. I love your laugh, the way your eyes light up and your entire body relaxes, and for a brief second I can let myself forget that I'm supposed to be your friend and nothing else. I forget that I'm your commanding officer and I forget about the Reapers and the billions of people dying every minute I waste on myself I should feel guilty about it but where you’re concerned I can’t bring myself to. I really want to forget. I want to just lose myself in your eyes. Lose myself in your touch. Fuck. I have fallen for you so hard.

* * *

You have no idea how much I care about you. How much I watch you from afar: in the CIC, when you’re bent over your console; during briefings in the war room; even in the mess or through the windows of the med-bay. You could accuse me of stalking and you wouldn’t be far from the truth, but I can’t stay away from you - it’s like gravity, you physically draw me in. You’ve become my personal nicotine patch and caffeine stim rolled into one without even knowing it. You’re the only one I'm holding it together for. I smile and fake to others, pretending that I'm okay, when inside I'm a tangled, burning ball of grief and pain and loss. I'm a mess. I'm not sleeping, not eating, and the times when I do, the faces of those I had to leave behind flash into my mind and I'm left feeling sick, knowing that I'm the only one who can save them. Its nights like that that I find my thoughts turning to you. Wishing I had the courage to love you and let you love me back. Wishing I had the nerve to tell you how I feel, to trust you with everything that I am and know that you will help hold me together when I’m tearing apart at the seams.

Of course all this wishing doesn’t do me any good. I don’t even know if you’d be interested. As a self-proclaimed lab rat why would you want a soldier as damaged as me? You could have anyone you wanted. Hell, you spend enough time with Ashley and you’d have to be blind to miss the looks she throws your way. I’d be happy for you both, you’d be good together - you might even be able to tame some of that Williams family fire. I hate that I can’t tell you; hate that I could miss my chance with you purely because I care too much to risk the relationship we’ve already built. It kills me to know that if you did get together with her I wouldn’t try and stop you. I want you to be happy and if the person that can do that is Ash then I’ll suck it up and remind myself that you were never mine to begin with. I just have to remind myself that it’s hopeless so I can stop torturing myself. Dammit.

* * *

Sometimes I forget not to hope. I forget that you have no idea how I feel and those are the times I end up wrestling with my already battered self-control.  I'll catch you looking at me or I’ll catch your eye and the smile that lights up your face makes me want to hug you and touch you in ways that would never be appropriate for a friend. You’re already shy enough, and every day I’m constantly reminding myself to be careful, to never give more than a hint of my feelings, at least no hint that can’t be passed off as playful teasing. I don’t want to scare you away.

You are perfect to me and every day I wish I could tell you, but, I know I’ll never have the courage. I can take on the most horrific beings that exist in this galaxy, and face them down without even a flicker of fear; but when it comes to you, I’m defenceless. My nerves of steel waver and I doubt everything I say and do. I'm so terrified of a rejection that I'm certain would come if you were to know that I can barely enjoy the time we spend together.

During the time I've known you, we've become friends. Close friends. It’s great and amazing because I get to spend time with you just relaxing; just being Shepard rather than **_The_** _Commander_ that I have to be the rest of the time.  We have our chess nights and you always win, although I admit, I enjoy your victorious smirk too much to really do much to try and beat you. Not like I could beat you if I tried, mind. When we play I can see you planning and strategizing, every move reflected in your eyes before you obliterate my weak defences, blasting straight through the walls I've built without batting an eye. It feels like that whenever I see you. Every time I think I've got a handle on this maelstrom of emotions that you stir up, I see the small pout of your bottom lip when you’re faced with a new challenge from a reckless move on my part and longing almost tears me up inside.  

I almost wish you’d just ask me about the glances I throw your way, or the ridiculous, chivalrous instincts I only seem to possess when you’re around. I want you to ask. _Need_ you to. It’s the only way you could ever know the truth. I could never lie to you. _Would_ neverlie to you. I’d sooner face a Reaper alone than ever betray the trust you have in me. If you would only ask, things would be so much better, so much _easier_. I could make you happy but only if you wanted me to. I'm too selfish to believe that if you wanted me I would tell you ‘no’ for your own safety and emotional wellbeing. I care too much, I’m too human, to be that selfless.

* * *

I could die any day and each time I step into that shuttle and hear your voice ringing across the comm signalling for take-off, I wish with all that I am that I had told you how I feel. I never know which mission will be my last, and if I were to die without you knowing, then my sacrifice would have been for nothing; you would never know that it was for you. That everything I did was always for you: to keep you safe, to get you through this waking nightmare of a war without being hurt or touched by the horrors that rage on the burning worlds all around us.

I should tell you. You deserve to know, even if that means taking a risk and making myself vulnerable, I feel far worse hiding this from you. I feel as if I'm lying not only to myself, but to you through omission, almost as if the very foundation of our friendship is based on a lie.

I can see you now, leaned over that infernal console. Your dark hair falling around your face and the graceful movements of your fingers across the display as you try and track down another lead through the endless streams of information directed at you. You’re so beautiful. You really have no idea. I'm going to tell you. I _have_ to tell you. I can’t hold this barrage of emotion back anymore. My heart is pounding and I know I'm sweating; so much is riding on this. You turn to look at me with a small playful smile on your face with just a hint of that old self-consciousness, a small smile that blossoms into a full blown grin when our eyes lock and I know you’re remembering the humiliating defeat I suffered during our last chess game. You can’t help the superior, triumphant look that you get whenever you well and truly beat me.

God I have to tell you.

I reach you finally and tug on your sleeve to get you to follow me. You look confused at first but that’s quickly replaced by a look of, what I realise with a pang of guilt, is one of absolute trust. We ride the elevator up to my cabin silently.  I’m fidgeting the hem of my shirt and words have completely abandoned me. Shit. I'm going to need to be somewhere comfortable if I'm going to have the guts to do this, somewhere we won’t be interrupted by prying eyes or roaming ears. The door to my cabin slips open and you follow me inside. I still haven’t spoken to you yet but I swear it’s not for the lack of trying. I swallow down the dryness in my throat and offer you a drink before downing my own shot of brandy. Whoever invented Dutch courage was a genius.

I indicate for you to sit down on the couch before I slide closer and grasp your hands in my own. I’m trembling slightly again and my stomach is turning somersaults.

  _I love you._

Did I say it? No. The words are still stuck in my throat and it’s impossible to force them out. God, I swear I'm going to be sick. I had no idea that just three simple words could be so hard to say. You look at me a little bit concerned before I shake my head, mentally kicking myself into action.

_Sam_

I whisper your name, caressing it with my voice, relishing in the shiver you try and suppress. Maybe I was wrong. God, do I hope I was wrong, because here I go.

_I love you_

This time it works. The words tumble from my mouth and before I know it, they’ve been said and I can’t take them back. You look stunned. A beat of silence passes. Then two. Then three. Fuck. Now it’s just getting awkward.

 Even if you don’t feel the same I would have hoped for at least some sort of response; something, _anything_ , to show that you heard me. To tell me that I'm not an idiot for daring to put my feelings into words. You haven’t moved. Haven’t said anything, you just look completely dumbfounded as if you can’t comprehend what I just said.  I shift awkwardly and make to stand, about to open my mouth and tell you that you can leave before my emotional walls completely collapse and you see me sob, but I'm cut off as you barrel into me, pinning me back down to the couch. Your lips fasten to mine; cutting off any thoughts I had about pushing you away. I'm frozen. Transfixed. Everything I've ever wanted is literally in my arms and in my lap. My brain has short-circuited; the immediate sensory overload that is _you_ too much to handle.

My paralysis leaves me, and I slide my hands up your back to pull you closer, tugging you to straddle my lap properly as your tongue slips between my lips to dip inside. Sweet Jesus, this is actually happening. I'm willing my brain to catch up but in all honesty I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that this is real, that this isn’t a dream. You taste amazing. _Feel_ amazing. Your scent. Your everything. You’re perfect, although I already knew that. I'm so happy that I'm surprised my heart hasn’t exploded out of my chest yet. You pull back and I can’t help the pitiful whimper that escapes me at the sensation of my own version of heaven being yanked away so soon. You giggle slightly and lower your forehead to rest against mine, offering one last gentle kiss to my lips.

_I love you too…_

Surely I imagined that? In all the scenarios in which I've imagined this happening _this_ is the one that I honestly never expected, the one I had yearned for the most but I had never dared to hope would happen. You laugh at me again, at the dumbfounded expression on my face, the look of shock and awe I know I'm not hiding.

_I love you Shepard. I always have. I just never thought you would ever love someone as unimportant as me._

I can’t hold back the laughter at that. I can’t believe how oblivious we both were. They say love is blind but I think we’ve found a whole new meaning. I kiss you again, pulling you as close as possible. I'm already addicted to your taste and I'm certain I will be for a long time to come yet. You thread your fingers through my hair, tugging at the short, fiery red strands as I suck your tongue into my mouth and slip a hand under the back of your uniform shirt. I have to touch that perfect strip of skin; it’s been torturing me for months, the hem of your shirt riding up slightly whenever you bend over or sit down in the mess. You moan into my mouth at the first skin-to-skin contact, and again, I wonder at how long it took me to woman up and tell you I loved you.

Your words from earlier come floating back. _‘I never thought you could love someone as unimportant as me.’_

No, you are as far from unimportant as it gets: you are my life, my everything, and you have been from the first moment I saw you. You have to know this? You have to at least have _suspected_? A warm glow fills me up, healing the self-inflicted lacerations on my heart. I smile into the kiss, feeling your lips do the same. You need to know.  I need you to know.

_You’re not unimportant Sam. I love you so much. You are my world, the one I get up every day for. I'm sorry I didn’t tell you sooner…_

I break the kiss a second time and pull back properly so that you can see the sincerity of those words reflected in my eyes, resting my hands on your thighs. You cannot doubt this one fundamental truth. I watch as a bashful smile spreads across your face. You finally seem to believe me; to have realised just exactly how important you are.

_I mean it Sam. I’d do anything for you._

You nod and swallow thickly.

_I believe you, Shepard._

Your voice cracks under the raw emotion of the last two minutes. I watch entranced as that blush rises up again and I almost groan at the sight. You are so adorable. I can’t help myself as I lean forward to kiss you again, capturing your lips the same way I have always wanted to whenever I caught sight of that rosy tint. 

 My hands move of their own accord, sliding up your legs, caressing you through the fabric. You lean forward, pressing me into the sofa, and tangle your hands in my hair as mine slip around your back and down to squeeze soft yet firm cheeks. You moan into my mouth at the touch and arch into my body. I’ll need to remember that reaction.

 Fuck. You ground your hips into mine, sending a bolt of heat shooting up my spine, scrambling my brain all over again.  I still can’t believe this is finally happening. I want you so much right now but I don’t want to go too fast. I'm still scared you’ll change your mind or I’ll wake up and realise this is all an elaborate dream. You moan into my mouth and your lips part slightly, practically begging  
 me to slide my tongue inside. Our tongues meet halfway, tangling together and you quickly take control, dominating through the kiss, showing me how much you want this as well.  Fuck, I can’t take it anymore. I've wanted you for so long and now, with you above me, I realise something has got to give. Five months of torturous build up. Five months of relentless flirting. Five months of emotional pain and now, with you straddling my lap, something’s finally snapped inside me.

* * *

I push up with a primal growl, pulling you flush against my body as I plunder your mouth. All my previous doubts are gone. The only thing on my mind now is that I want you so fucking much. I can barely focus as I fumble with the hem of you uniform shirt before I finally manage to will some coordination back into my arms and tug it over your head, revealing a satin black bra that definitely isn’t Alliance issue.  You gasp at the rush of cool air brushing your skin and your hands tighten where they’re twined with my short hair.

 _Shepard_.

Goddamn, do I love hearing my name in that breathless voice. I lean in again, massaging the firm cheeks of flesh that are once again under my palms, hoisting you up slightly, your amazing breasts level with my face. I don’t even try to resist the burning instinct to taste you through the flimsy material, pulling a rapidly hardening peak into my mouth and suckling until a desperate moan escapes you, setting my body on fire. I need to move. Need to claim you before I actually go crazy with the need and pure lust coursing through my body.

 I stand up and you wrap your legs around me, my hands on your ass supporting your weight easily. I’ve got every intention of spinning you around and pressing you into the couch. You nip at my lips again and your nails scratch against my scalp sending tremors down my spine in the most delicious way. I pull back panting.

_Christ, you’re gorgeous Sam._

You smirk and your eyes flash with mischief. You lean back; forcing me to stumble forward so that I don’t drop you. Your back hits the glass of the fish tank, knocking the air from your lungs, but you don’t seem to notice. I'm trying to get some control back so that I don’t just ravish you but you’re not making this easy. Your lips latch on to the pulse point exposed above the collar of my uniform, driving me crazy with not so gentle nips and bites, marking me as yours already. Not that I'm complaining. You tear a moan from my lips when your nails dig into my shoulders and a well-placed bite makes heat spear through me, settling deep in my stomach. I can’t help the way my hips buck into you at that and I moan into your neck again as you giggle slightly.

_Shit, Sam. Do you even know what you’re doing to me right now?_

I look up and catch theglint of trouble in your eyes that says you know _exactly_ what you’re doing.

_Bed, Shepard?_

I can’t help my answering grin.

_No way in hell._

I let you slide down my body a little; crowding you until you’re pressed against the cool glass once again and I can’t help but capture your lips one more time.

_I can’t wait that long._

I smirk at your gasp and it’s the sound that snaps the last thread of my frayed self-control. I let out a low growl before I turn you around again.  I drop you onto the sofa. Pushing you down and crawling my way up your body. 

Your chest heaves as you look down at me.  I watch your perfect breasts heave with it, and I can’t help but grin fully.  Your hands find my hair again as I bury my face in those delectable pillows of flesh, kissing and sucking, running my tongue along the threshold of flimsy fabric and skin.  My hands, in the meantime, begin to fumble with your zipper.

_Shepard…_

Chuckling a little, I push the material aside, staring for a moment at that perfect brown nub before attacking it with my mouth.  My coordination is all off, though, and I’m having trouble with your zipper.  Probably because your belt is still in the way.  Damn.

A pressure at my shoulders removes my lips from your nipple.  Continued pressure has me on my knees, but you just follow, pushing me until I’m sitting on my feet.

_You’re too slow._

Somehow I’m on my back again.  A second later, you’re on me, sans pants.  I put my hands on your hips, feeling the strings of some satiny panties that _definitely_ aren’t Alliance issue. I love the confident knowing smile you shoot my way,

_It’s a small thing I can do to feel better throughout the day._

I’m not complaining.  You have me sit up enough to remove my shirt, immediately lowering yourself and biting my neck again.  I feel your tongue venture out every now and then, and it drives me fucking _wild_.  I realize that I’m holding your hips tightly, grinding up into you.  I stop just as you do.  I see your eyes flash in the low light of my cabin, and my heart immediately starts racing again.

I am so not in control of this anymore.  And you have mischief in mind.

I’m sitting up again, and off comes my bra.  You barely take the time to look, though, as you’ve already moved on to my belt.  You have much more presence of mind than I do, and are able to undo it with no problems.  My heart is still racing, and I’m starting to wonder what you have in mind – every time I reach for you, you bat my hands away and continue removing my clothes.  You push me to lie down, and I help you shimmy my pants past my hips.  Once there, they slide off with no problems. 

 _I wouldn’t have pegged you as wearing boxer-briefs, Commander_.

Shit, you using my title is hot as _fuck_.  I don’t get a chance to answer, as you’ve removed said boxer-briefs and have crashed your lips into mine once more.  I finally get to touch you now, pull you into me.  Your skin is hot under my hands.  Your weight feels amazing on me, your heated skin sliding against my own, pressing into my stomach, my breasts, and my groin.  There are so many things going on, it’s hard to keep track.  I’m paying close attention, though, when your knee parts mine, and your thigh presses down between my own.  I groan as I press into it, your teeth catching my lower lip as your hands guide my hips.

I’m wet.  Very wet.  It happened all of a sudden, my insides practically flooding your thigh, coating you in my fluid.  I feel like I’m on fire.  You chuckle, low in your throat, and suddenly you’re gone again, and I whimper at your loss.

Only you’re not gone.  There you are again, feeling me, pressing two fingers into me, and God, I’m so wet that you have no problem going all the way in to the knuckle.  Your fingers are talented; you move around just a little, and suddenly you’re pressing against that _spot_.  That spot that makes me buck up against you.  Except you’re not there: only your hand is.  I whimper again, looking down – just in time to see you lower your head.  My eyes are wide as I watch you descend, and then I can feel your lips on me.

You give me a gentle kiss at first, chuckling low again when I twitch toward you upon contact.  The sight of you kneeling on my couch, in your lingerie, fucking me and getting ready to eat me, makes me gush again, and your hand is covered just like your knee was.  Then your tongue is on me, and I’m lost in a sea of sensation.

You suck in one and then the other of my labia, pumping gently in and out of me.  I prop myself up on an elbow so I can see properly, and because not enough of you is touching me, I reach for you, twining my fingers into your hair.  I don’t push down or anything – I just want to touch you, to feel you, to remind myself that this is real, this is happening.  With you.

Your tongue is on my clitoris now, your hand working me more insistently.  We’ve found a rhythm, my hips working with your hand, your tongue doing a wicked dance on my clit.  I’ve never come this way, but I can feel it building, can feel my insides turning to molten lava.  I haven’t managed to utter a single comprehensible word since you decided to ravish me right here on my couch. My skin is slick with sweat.  Yours is, too: I can see it shining on your back.  I suddenly want to run my tongue along the small of your back to the twin dimples above your ass.

The thought that I’ll get to makes me clench around your hand.

_Sam, I’m going to…_

You redouble your efforts, and then I’m on the edge of the cliff.  You must be able to tell, because you suddenly back off just a little.  I whimper, and your eyes finally look up toward me.  And you wink.  You _wink_ and then press in and up and lash my clit with your tongue, and suddenly I’m falling over that cliff.  I grunt, some curse-word or other, my hand tightening in your hair, my hips grinding up into your hand and your mouth, riding you as I come.

And boy, is it a good one. My dreams and fantasies have got nothing on this blissful reality.

Awareness returns to me a little slowly.  My body still occasionally bucking with the aftershocks, and I realize that I’ve released your hair, and your mouth is no longer on me.  You’re still buried deep inside of me, but you’re not touching me anywhere else.  I wonder at it, but don’t seem to be able to lift my head to see what’s going on.

Then you’re there, your skin – all of it – pressed against me as you slide out of me and crawl on top of me.  I bury my face in your shoulder, trying desperately not to cry out at the onslaught of sensation your skin on mine is after such an intense orgasm.  Your hands go directly to my hair and you pull my head back, looking into my eyes.  God, you’re so pretty when you take control of me.

 _I hope you have a little left in you, Commander, because I need you.  I need you desperately_.

Who could say no to that?  You take my hand, guide me to your centre, and I feel how wet you are.  I press up immediately, finding your clit as you finally let me kiss you.  You moan into my mouth, and then all bets are off.  Pressing against your clit isn’t enough.  I need to be inside of you.

I press you up until you’re straddling my hips, my free hand groping one of your delicious-looking tits.  I slide my fingers further, and then you seem to understand, because your eyes flash and you grin at me.  Lifting yourself a little, you allow my hand room, and then I’m inside you, and it is blessedly warm and velvety and I think I might die.  You begin to rock back and forth, pressing one of your own hands to your clit.  My free hand goes to your hip to help stabilize you, while _your_ free hand splays between my breasts.

You’re really going to town now, fucking yourself on my hand, your tits bouncing gloriously just out of reach of my mouth.  We lock eyes, and I suddenly feel like a lamb being trotted before a starving wolf.  You might be shy and nerdy, but you are Woman, the epitome of the sex, and I am happily your slave tonight.  And hopefully for a very long time after, as well.  I am your willing captive.

You know it, too.  I can see it in your eyes, your smile.  You clench around my fingers, drop yourself to kiss me, and begin bucking wildly with your own orgasm.  Fuck.  How am I supposed to get anything done when I’m the Commander and could easily – and happily – order you in here to do _this_ instead?

I kiss your hair as you still, shaking occasionally with your own aftershocks.  Removing my hand, I reposition us, shifting around until I can lift you.  You yelp as I do so, your hands going around my shoulders as I carry you bride-style to my bed.  I don’t bother pulling the covers back, simply depositing you on the blanket, falling with you and pressing into you.  We kiss once more, and it’s with the happiest shit-eating grin that I begin to fall asleep, your sweet skin pressed against mine, your head tucked into my shoulder, and your scent filling my whole world.

* * *

I open my eyes and feel a little foggy.  I dreamt that I finally did it, and you said you loved me back, and then you went down on me on my couch.  I sigh.  It was such a good dream.  I feel myself start to tear up a little, and swipe the wetness away angrily.  How did I get myself into this mess?

Something moves next to me, and I freeze.  I sit up, turn my head, and there you are.

Shit.

It really happened.  I shake my head to help clear the fogginess, and I start to begin to remember a lot more clearly.  Every single word.  Every feeling.  Every movement that you made.  And here you are, sleeping on top of my bed, your every curve showing to good advantage without the blankets covering you.  I barely want to breathe, for fear of shattering this spectre of you, afraid you’ll turn out to be a figment of my imagination.

But I can only stare so long before it feels like every molecule of my being screams at me to check that it’s real.  So I do.  I reach out, putting my hand on your shoulder as lightly as I can.  You don’t wake, and I feel that you’re real, solid against my skin.  I smile.  Thank fucking _God_.

Joker’s voice comes over the comm.  _Commander, is Traynor really in there with you, or is EDI pulling my leg?_

I jump in surprise, shoving you in the process.  _Goddammit Joker – mind your own fucking business!_

_So she **is** , then?_

You sit up, pushing your hair behind your ear, the skin of your face dark red.  _Yes, flight-lieutenant, I’m here._

 _You have a big mouth, EDI_ , I say, frowning over at her platform.

Her hologram appears.  _I apologize, Commander.  She didn’t report to XO Williams, who was about to perform a search for her missing crewman.  I felt it prudent to inform her that Specialist Traynor had not reported to her cabin because she was in the Nest_.

I open my mouth to respond, but your hand is on my mouth before I can speak.  _Thank you, EDI.  I trust she is satisfied, and **won’t** be conducting that search?_

 _Yes, Specialist Traynor_.  EDI pauses.  I swear that holographic interface is hesitating.  _Should I have not spoken of the intimate nature of your relationship?_

You look at me, a question in your eyes.  I’m smart enough to know that the answer has far more wide-reaching consequences than whether or not EDI should have opened her big mouth or not.  You want to know if I want to keep this secret.  And with that comes the question of how much I actually _do_ love you, or if I’m somehow ashamed of you, and it’s all bullshit and I can’t stand the hurt behind your eyes that’s ready to come out and then be buried, depending upon my answer.

I grab your hand away from my lips and lean forward, kissing you fiercely.  _No, EDI, it’s fine._  I look into your eyes.  _I want everyone to know you’re mine._   I smirk, pulling you close enough to kiss and speaking low.  _Especially Ash.  She can’t have you._

You raise an eyebrow, and I kiss you again, letting my hands wander with abandon.  I’m feeling a little possessive, knowing that Ashley wanted to find you, was worried about your whereabouts.  Knowing that you were with me instead of with her sets it off inside me just a little more.

You pull back, smirking.  _Where did that come from?_

It’s my turn to raise an eyebrow.  _Surely you’ve seen the looks she gives you?_

 _I’m not **blind** , Shepard._  You lean forward, whispering.  _She likes me a **lot**.  She even tried to kiss me the other day._

You pull back, smirking again, and I just sit there, blinking.  I think maybe I can’t decide if I’m feeling insecure or victorious.  You decide it for me, though.

_What are you going to do about it, Commander?_

I growl a little in my throat, sliding my fingers into your hair and pulling you in to kiss me.  I don’t just dip my tongue out: I claim your mouth with mine, my hands in your hair, pulling you in tightly.  But it isn’t enough; you’re not close enough.  So I let go with one hand, wrap that arm around your waist, and pull you to the side and onto your back, sliding on top of you, feeling your skin against mine and fighting to keep from crying out at the onslaught of sensations, the sensuous slide of your skin against mine. Fuck.  I’m not usually this sensitive unless I’ve just had an orgasm.

I feel your legs wrap around my hips, your ankles locking behind me.  Your fingers dig into my shoulders as I thrust my pelvis into you, attacking your throat with my teeth and tongue.  My hands pin your hips to my bed, and for a wild moment I feel like I’m inside of you, taking you, laying claim to you.

Maybe I am feeling more than a little possessive.

I latch onto your pulse point, sucking your skin in hard enough to make you yelp.  But your grip on me only tightens, letting me know that you like what I’m doing and don’t want me to stop.  I suckle your skin, digging my fingers into your hips, pushing my body into yours, and you gasp and shudder.  Letting go with a slight _pop_ , I pull away a little, giving just enough room for you to slip your chin down and kiss me.

But you’re letting go of me now, your feet no longer locked behind me, your fingers no longer digging into my skin.  You pull away from the kiss.

 _That’s more like it_.

You’re smiling, coy and yet not.

_Then why are we stopping?_

You giggle. 

_I’m sorry, Commander.  But, well… I have to pee._

Oh.  I feel my face get very hot as I move off of you.  I tuck my hair behind my ear as you sit up and kiss me on the cheek, jumping up off the bed and skipping off to my bathroom.  Thank God for having my own in my room.

You being gone gives me time to think, something I’m very much _not_ thankful for.  Did Ashley really try to kiss you?  What did you mean by “try” to kiss you?  What did you do when she tried?  Do you like her, too?  And where does that leave us?  I told you I love you; you said you love me, too.  I want you to myself.  Maybe your heart is big enough to love more than one person at a time, but I don’t think I’m selfless enough to let you.  Fuck, why are you taking so long?

You emerge from the bathroom, drying your hands on the towel hanging outside the door (so it dries all the way).  You see me sitting here on my bed, my knees tucked up under my chin, and your smile falters a little.  Your eyebrows knit a little, and you walk over to me.  I can’t take my eyes off your hips, your stomach, that dark thatch of hair where your thighs meet.  I can’t help but think of what you feel like, can’t help but think of the fact that my hand must still smell like you.

_Commander?  What’s wrong?_

My face warms again.  I’ve gone from feeling possessive and victorious to feeling insecure, like a bitchy teenage girl.  I hate this feeling.  I thought I was done with it when you surged into my lap last night.

_Did Ash really try to kiss you?_

You actually smile, even laugh a little.  I don’t really see what’s funny, but I suppose I’m the one in this situation feeling wounded and hurt, so maybe my sense of humour is compromised.

_Are you still jealous, Commander?_

_No!_

The denial is instantaneous and defensive. You quirk an eyebrow and I wince inwardly at the colour once again rising in my cheeks.

_Okay, maybe a little. But Sam… please?_

You giggle and flick your hair back from where it had fallen over your face.

_There’s really no need to be jealous, Commander._

You drop your voice an octave lower at the end, your accent almost making it sound like you’re caressing my title. Caressing me.  Fuck. I try to ignore the jolt of arousal that shoots through me so I can get my answer.

_Sam…_

I drag out your name. A warning almost, should you care to listen to it. You giggle again.

_It’s really not a big deal, Shepard._

I can tell you’re teasing me. Enjoying the jealousy in my voice but it doesn’t tell me what I need to know.

I sigh. 

_I just wanna know._

You kneel on the bed, take my hand, look me in the eyes. 

_Yes, she did.  She cornered me in the shuttle bay, after your last mission.  She kissed me, very gently, and asked me if I felt the same.  She was all sweaty, still in her hard suit.  She said she realized she needed to tell me before something awful happened and she didn’t get the chance._

I look down at my knees and clear my throat to so I can force the words out past the lump in my throat.

  _What did you do?_

I can _hear_ the smile in your voice. 

 _I told her I loved someone else.  She knew it was you, told me she didn’t blame me – everyone has had the hots for you, as she put it.  I didn’t even tell her it was you, she just knew – I guess I wasn’t that subtle._ I feel your finger on my chin, a gentle pressure getting me to look at you again.  _Commander.  Jane.  I love you.  I don’t want Ashley.  I want **you**.  If you’ll have me._

You must see the relief in my eyes, because you immediately lean forward and cover my lips in a kiss.  You _love_ me.  You love _me_.  A moan escapes and I can’t stop myself from taking you into my arms, laying you down on your back and promising myself to worship you with whatever time was granted us.

I move down your neck, kissing and nipping gently.  You let out a sigh, like you’re relieved, like you’re finally home after too long a trip away.  I smile into your skin, letting my hands wander, cupping your breasts, your hips, your stomach.  I revel in your arms wrapping around me, your fingers tangling in my hair, your nails scraping lightly over my scalp.  Your skin tastes so good, slightly salty, your scent invading my whole world.  You smell like cream, cinnamon and sugar, and just a touch of sweat, and I can’t get enough.  I inhale again and again, taking in as much as I can, tasting your skin, feeling your body, moving with you to our own special rhythm.

When I reach your breasts, I take them in my mouth, eliciting low moans from you, your fingers tightening in my hair.  They are full and round, falling to the sides of your chest in a way that makes it clear you haven’t indulged in any surgery, like so many women seem to do these days.  I kiss from between them down to your navel, feeling your pubic hair tickling my own small breasts, feeling you writhe beneath me.

 _Shepard.  Jane, I need you_.

Fuck, how could I ever not give you what you want, even if you _hadn’t_ just made it clear you love me and only me?  I lower myself further, watching as you spread your knees and reveal your sex to me.  I didn’t get to actually look last night.  What I see makes me groan with desire.  Pink and wet, you’re open to me, your scent washing over me, and I dive in, unwilling to wait any longer.

You cry out.  You taste divine.  I run my tongue along your labia, down to your entrance, and go inside for a moment.  You whimper, your legs closing around my head, your fingers tightening in my hair even more.  But I _so_ don’t mind.  I pull back out and run my tongue back up the other side, ending at your clit.  I flick it lightly at first, listening intently for the noises you make.  And you don’t disappoint, yelping when I first touch you there, moaning when I lick you long and slow, and whimpering when I stop.

_Goddammit, Shepard! Stop bloody toying with me!!_

That’s my cue.  I lunge forward a little, sliding two fingers inside of you, fingers that are still covered in you from last night, and lave your clit softly but deliberately with my tongue.  I continue, pumping slowly in and out of you, feeling you getting a little tighter, feeling your whole body begin to tense as the sounds you make reach a higher pitch.  Your hands abandon my hair, and I glance up to see you clutching a pillow over your face.  Just as you do, your whole body tenses, and I feel a gush of fluid over my hand.  Your muffled cry reaches my ears just before it’s swiftly cut off by your thighs clamping shut over my ears.

I try my best to move with you, to ride your writhing body as you climax all over me.  Just when I’m beginning to worry about oxygen-deprivation, your legs relax, your hands reaching down and pushing my face away from you.  When your legs fall away, I hear you laughing, and I smile as I pull out of you and crawl up your body, taking you in my arms and collapsing on top of you, taking in great gulps of air.

A giggle. 

_Your stamina is impressive, Commander._

I smile, burying my face in between your breasts. 

 _I try_.

You laugh properly at that. I raise myself up on my elbows, not even trying to resist the urge to kiss you, to taste your sweat slicked skin. Your arms wrap around the back of my neck, tugging me further up to meet your lips and our tongues intertwine almost lazily, a reaffirmation of our feelings.

I pull back to look in your eyes once more, a coy little half-smile on my face, trying to suppress the huge  grin that is threatening to surge forth.

_So…you really do love me, huh?_

You giggle and sigh playfully.

_For the last time - **yes** Shepard!_

_Well then, Specialist._ I smirk. _Care to prove it?_

You laugh at the challenge, a dark eyebrow quirking in amusement.

_As you wish, **Commander.**_

Fuck, your voice is amazing. The world turns and the next thing I know I'm on my back. You’re straddling my hips and your arms are on either side of my head, your dark locks brushing the side of my face as you lean down to whisper in my ear.

_You know I never back down from a challenge._

I try to reply, to form the words that normally would be on the tip of my tongue but I can’t. You roll your hips against mine and nip at my earlobe and any coherence I once had flees in that moment. My mind is flooded with still-new memories and my suddenly overwhelming _need_. My eyes close and I take a second to relish in the feel of you under my hands before I force them open again. I don’t want to miss a second of this, not now I know this is real, that you’re not a dream and that you love me.

You draw back again and capture my lips in a kiss that is clearly supposed to be gentle; but at the first brush of your lips against mine, I need more. I pull you even closer, deepening the kiss, stoking the already raging inferno of lust inside of me. My hands on your hips pull you down to meet mine and we find a rhythm: rocking, rolling against each other. You don’t let me stay in control for long, sliding back slightly so your thigh can slip between mine, creating that friction I so desperately need even as you pull my arms above my head to grip the headboard. I can’t stop myself grinding against you, craving the pressure that only you can give me. I'm already on edge from making you come and I know it won’t take long for me.

You nip at my bottom lip and I can’t hold back a groan.

_Fuck. Sam, I'm sorry I teased you but **please** make me come…_

You tut.  You’re actually _tutting_ me like a naughty schoolgirl.

_My, my Commander. Aren’t we a little desperate?_

I can hear the amusement in your voice.

_Sam… please…_

I arch into you, my voice breaking, cracking with my overwhelming arousal, which only gets stronger when you slip one hand between our bodies to tease me, exploring my wet folds, flicking briefly over my clit. You release a quiet moan at the amount of wetness pooled there before you bury your face in my neck and latch onto my pulse point.

_Do you believe me now, Shepard?  When I say I love you?_

I know you’re teasing. Drawing this out as punishment for my jealousy. But my lust addled brain can’t find the words I know you want. All that escapes is a needy whimper and I try to grind my heated core against your hand.

_Please… Sam…_

_Well Commander?_

Your fingers slip inside, adding to my challenge, and I gasp at the welcome intrusion, my walls already beginning to clench as you start to thrust them in and out. Your fingertips are curling against that one spot that makes me want to fly apart at the seams.

 _Sam…_ I try again but the words just won’t come. All I can find is your name - the only word being repeated in my head, like a mantra, and you grin cockily at the incoherent, needy mess I've become.

Your lips trail down my torso to latch onto an engorged nipple, suckling gently before you pull back to murmur against my skin.

_Do you believe me now?_

I can’t take anymore: the teasing, the way your fingers are thrusting inside me and the way your thumb swipes across my clit at the perfect moment has pushed me so close to the edge. My climax is just out of reach and all it will take is one more small push from you to send me crashing over the edge.

You nip at my other breast, your fingers flex again, and I can’t help myself back anymore. The wave of sensation crests and my body explodes.

_Yes! Yes, Sam, I believe you!_

Fuck. My muscles are clenching, my body arching into yours as I clutch at the headboard for support. I’m unable to stop myself from crying out. Your fingers don’t stop, easing me through the aftershocks. I feel a flood of wetness between my legs.

You pull out slowly and your eyes lock with mine. I'm still panting and trying to catch my breath when you bring your fingers up to your mouth and slowly lick them clean. A whimper escapes before I can stop it and you smile again as you drag your body back up mine so you can look in my eyes.

_I love you Shepard. Don’t **ever** forget that._

I can’t hold back my smile, not that I’d even want to.

 _I won’t._ I wrap my arm around your neck, pulling you close, kissing you fiercely.  _I love you, too, Sam._


End file.
